


Remembering

by thunderfrosties



Category: The Wolverine (2013), X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009)
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:25:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderfrosties/pseuds/thunderfrosties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Logan’s mind likes to play the cruellest damn tricks on him.</i>
</p><p>It's another restless night for Logan.</p><p>A very raw drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembering

Logan’s mind likes to play the cruellest damn tricks on him.

That he can actually tear himself away this time round is the only thing that separates the dream from being reality again. He’s bolt upright so fast, sweating, as dazed and confused as he was when he first woke up on that forsaken island among the rubble with the smell of dust and blood in his nose.

He can swear he can smell blood still, faintly, but it’s fading as he readjusts his mind and senses. Ahead of him, he focuses on light from somewhere catching and running along long hard lines of silver and the scent makes more sense. He can justify it and it puts him one step forward into the right time.

His heart is beating furiously enough that Logan doubts that even his reinforced ribcage is enough to hold it. There’s no room left for his lungs to work with his swollen, throbbing heart. Even his skin tingles and he can swear it’s still on fire, being melted away and peeling back until there’s nothing but a silver skeleton that keeps a tight grasp on his swollen organs.

Shivering as nerves and the cold sweat he’s broken into take effect, Logan forces a breath into his lungs, takes in another scent that’s familiar and comforting and grounding.

He turns his head, looking about until his eyes fall down on a vague shape in the dark. A long, tall body that’s kicked off the sheets until he can sprawl comfortably and tangle one of his legs with Logan’s. The Cajun is utterly at peace and unaware of the memories that have crept their way to the surface in his lover’s mind.

Knowing Remy and the small smirk at the corner of his parted lips, Logan thinks he’s probably dreaming of something that would make him scowl, but for now it reminds him of normality. The scent of Remy, the heat of him beside him, it’s comforting and it lulls Logan’s heart to beat slower and more controlled.

There’s a soft slide of metal and bone being sheathed as he retracts his claws and relaxes his taught chest and shoulders while he continues to focus on Remy. His legs seem too long for the bed but Logan knows that when they got in together, they both fit comfortably. Despite everything that’s just happened in his mind, he manages a tiny smile at one corner of his mouth and with unsteady, trembling arms, he lowers himself back down onto the pillows, which thankfully remained intact tonight.

At least he didn’t wake Remy. He's even more dangerous to disturb. There’d be a good chance of a new window if he’d nicked him while he slept.

Logan rubs at his face tiredly, scratches the scruff along his cheeks and runs his hand back through his thick, coarse hair. The Cajun rolls and shoves his leg more decisively between Logan’s, drapes a heavy arm over his chest, the weight somehow making it easier for Logan breathe. Remy nuzzles his nose into Logan’s cheek as though he’s _soft_ and murmurs something nonsensical and _French_.

There doesn’t seem to be an end to it, but _this_ , being able to curl up beside Remy like a lovesick dog, it helps. The memories are getting no easier, but with Remy beside him Logan knows exactly where he is now.

He’s home.

 


End file.
